


Legend of Lilith, Rise of the Daedra

by JetLikeTheJewel



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Skyrim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JetLikeTheJewel/pseuds/JetLikeTheJewel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Pain. Misery. Sadness. Melancholy…and Madness. These are thee emotions Lillith lives through daily. She is no ordinary woman, and she is certainly no hero. Blood and fear is her code, her career-her way of life. Now, and forever.<br/>Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, a guild of killers known throughout the ages, welcomes her with open arms, and treats her like a true sister.<br/>One day, a jester carrying a coffin and claiming to be a former member in a different province brings a new change. Shortly after, Lilith’s greatest horror becomes a nightmare of a reality.<br/>She becomes the one thing that she resents with every fiber of her being-to this very day.Of all things, she becomes…The Listener. A legendary title bestowed upon her unwillingly and unwanted. She hears the voice of a dead corpse that commands her to kill certain people. The unholy matron-the Night Mother.<br/>Any thoughts of escape were buried beneath all impossible things. The Night Mother is an ethereal deity that can read your very thoughts and memories, and emotions…<br/>SHE decides the contracts of elimination. SHE decides the fate of those under her. And SHE chooses the Listener.<br/>And she is not a force to be reckoned with.<br/>Lillith is tired of it all. So many things have changed dramatically-both good and bad. The family it once was has been reduced to 3 people. A jester, a friend, and herself.<br/>The Jester is the Keeper, the one who looks after the Night Mother’s body. Cicero, riddles, rhyming, jingled bell cap and all. His very humor-even though morbid- gives Lillith a reason to stay-a reason to live.<br/>She wants to runaway, but betrayal is not taken kindly by any guild-family or not. Fear holds her back.<br/>One day, the Night Mother stops speaking completely. No one knows why. And Lillith is terrified. She is forced to act.<br/>Her decisions change the lives of everyone, and herself. She finds things about herself and her past that she was never meant to know. And when she does, she must choose between a new way of life…or her family.</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pain. Misery. Sadness. Melancholy…and Madness. These are thee emotions Lillith lives through daily. She is no ordinary woman, and she is certainly no hero. Blood and fear is her code, her career-her way of life. Now, and forever.  
> Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood, a guild of killers known throughout the ages, welcomes her with open arms, and treats her like a true sister.  
> One day, a jester carrying a coffin and claiming to be a former member in a different province brings a new change. Shortly after, Lilith’s greatest horror becomes a nightmare of a reality.  
> She becomes the one thing that she resents with every fiber of her being-to this very day.Of all things, she becomes…The Listener. A legendary title bestowed upon her unwillingly and unwanted. She hears the voice of a dead corpse that commands her to kill certain people. The unholy matron-the Night Mother.  
> Any thoughts of escape were buried beneath all impossible things. The Night Mother is an ethereal deity that can read your very thoughts and memories, and emotions…  
> SHE decides the contracts of elimination. SHE decides the fate of those under her. And SHE chooses the Listener.  
> And she is not a force to be reckoned with.  
> Lillith is tired of it all. So many things have changed dramatically-both good and bad. The family it once was has been reduced to 3 people. A jester, a friend, and herself.  
> The Jester is the Keeper, the one who looks after the Night Mother’s body. Cicero, riddles, rhyming, jingled bell cap and all. His very humor-even though morbid- gives Lillith a reason to stay-a reason to live.  
> She wants to runaway, but betrayal is not taken kindly by any guild-family or not. Fear holds her back.  
> One day, the Night Mother stops speaking completely. No one knows why. And Lillith is terrified. She is forced to act.  
> Her decisions change the lives of everyone, and herself. She finds things about herself and her past that she was never meant to know. And when she does, she must choose between a new way of life…or her family.

I awoke feeling dizzy and beyond freezing. I...was being dragged by the wrists forward. the ground below me burned my knees like sand paper, and my vision was blurred beyond recognition. Every part of my body ached with fatigue and I felt like I had slept for a thousand years. I can barely remember what happened before I lost consciousness. The closest I have to a reminder is a powerful aching sensation in my forehead.

When my vision was somewhat clear, all I could see was white all around me. I didn't have the strength to move my neck to view my captors. All I could see is what was in plain sight ahead of me. I slowly rose my head to see the time of day. What I saw only vexed and horrified me. The sky looked as if it were both dawn and dusk. The stars were alight and auroras painted the sky in a new world.

I heard faint voices...chanting. As I felt my body being painfully dragged upon a different path, the voices spoke as one, chanting a name. "Boethiah, Boethiah, Boethiah!” It became louder and louder and my ears felt an agonizing ringing pulsation. I was thrown forward, and I felt footsteps rushing towards me in heavy snow. Snickering and laughing filled my ears.

"Boethiah! I have brought you your gift! As requested..." snickered a familiar voice beside my body. "No..." I moaned lowly, coming to a painful realization. Vasha, the Khajiit that journeyed with me to find the legendary treasure we formed an alliance to find. I was betrayed! That damn cat! I should've known this would happen!

"Bring the other bitch forward!" yelled a throaty voice. Someone had pulled the tresses of my hair, forcing me to look up. My vision colored and discolored through lines of blurriness. The crowd ahead was dressed in many different things. A huge majority of them wore pure silver armor, while the others wore what looked like arena raiment.

The crowd clamored together and then quickly spread as they brought the body of another victim forward. What I saw sent ripples of shock and pain throughout my heart. The familiar face of a proud warrior I once knew...tarnished and humiliated in front of me. Jenessa; my dark elf friend. Her once flawless grayish skin was painted with gruesome scars, and her leather armor had shredding's and massive open wounds far from healed. Her once perfect pitch black pupil-less onyx eyes were thinned and narrowed and swollen.

"Jen..." I weakly called out. My throat was sore and my voice near inaudible. The crowd boomed with sick sadistic laughter. I didn't know if my eyes were tricking me, but I swore I saw tints of florescent purple and blue auroras pulling towards us. My head pounded painfully, and the laughter dyed down slowly. "Well done Vasha..." said that throaty voice again. I weakly looked towards the man speaking. He was gripping my friend's neck tightly, and smiling darkly towards my direction. His skin was creamy white, and his eyes blood-red and demonic. A vampire. He was bald and was wearing the arena attire. Jenessa weakly struggled against his grip, only for someone to shove he painfully in the ribcage. She yelped and whimpered upon contact.

On impulse, I bolted forward, only to be yanked back by my hair. I felt a foot kick against my ribs, and I coughed up blood. "Now, now... that's no way for a guest to behave, Lillith..." said an all too familiar voice. I weakly raised my head higher, staring into the cats eyes. "Burn in hell, milk-drinker..." I spat venomously. Vasha only chuckled. All of a sudden, a loud voice broke out through the crowd. Ancient, bold, commanding, and demeaning and demonic;

 

 **_"_ ** **_Sacrifice the dunmer."_ **

 

“NO!” I screamed, ignoring the pain in my throat. I yanked forward with all my might, only to be effortlessly pulled back harshly. I kicked and I screamed. Everything happened in SLOW motion. “Jenessa! Jenessa! _JENESSA!!!!”_ All I could do was watch as my friend's life was taken by blade. She choked on her own blood, and fell limply to the ground. And then, of all things impossible...

The crowd fell silent at once. The aurora’s shrouded Jenessa’s corpse like a thousand ribbons. Her body glowed in an unreal veil of purple, and she slowly lifted. Jenessa's body rose about 6ft above the ground, her body glowing in an unreal shade of purple. A scream of terror that sounded distorted arisen from Jenessa’s corpse, dimming the florescent purple barely. It sounded like a part of Jenessa’s soul fighting to expel whatever was consuming her mortal body. It was silenced by a sharp sickening crack of bones, and the corpse rose on its own accord. The body echoed the purple auroras in every direction, and my sight was clouded and severely distorted as if I was under water. The woman I once knew was long gone. Jenessa's corpse stood perfectly on her bare feet, her gray body bare and naked. Her eyes were closed and the scars glown a dark shade of purple. What stood before me felt like an abomination. An evil deity I knew nothing about, awoken new horrors and fears grave and unspoken. Her eyes now a glowing white and misty purple iris opened, and her lips parted.

 

_**"Feast your eyes before me, lowly mortal... For I am The Daedric Prince of deceit...treachery, insurrection, and rebellion.** _

_**I am Boethiah."** _

 

 Terror shook my heart and bones violently. Everything felt unreal. It was as if all logic and hope no longer existed. It was as if my greatest nightmare had come to life. No one was talking. The deity stood silently, her eyes narrowed. I awkwardly lifted my body off the ground. The pain was replaced by a numbing sensation, and my eyes were narrowed to slits. Her luminescence felt blinding.

“What are you? Some kind of God?” I asked with a raspy throat, looking at what once was my friend.

The deity named Boethiah laughed demonically.

_**"Such Insolence... I am far more powerful than any ‘God’ you claim to worship. I am the most feared Daedra of them all."** _

“What do you want from me?” I asked, barely hearing myself speak. Boethiah’s lips curled into a smile. She shamelessly strode towards me, ignoring the glances of her followers. She stood less than a couple feet before me.

 

" _ **I've been searching far and wide for you, Assassin of old. You have slain countless people in your path. You possess a power so ancient that none of my followers are worthy or capable of concealing. My eyes can see past illusions and lies. I can see an ancient spirit, kin to my brethren…and myself. I know not who and what you are, nor do I care where your loyalties lie. None of that matters. I will give you a choice. Live to serve me. Become my champion. Slay those who oppose and deny my existence. Kill for me. And give your celestial form to me."**_

 

I always wanted to leave the Night Mother. This represented an opportunity. I never imagined I'd meet a deity worse than the unholy matron. The last thing I wanted was to serve another master. I vowed that if I ever left the Night Mother, I would never enter a pact with another evil deity. The first time was a careless mistake. I'll die before that happens. There was no way I'd go along with this.

"And if I refuse?" I asked, knowing the answer. Her face contorted into a chilling glare-one that felt like she could see into my very soul. She approached further, circling me.

_**"You would dare defy me? I could kill you at my own will, take your corpse, and feed it to the bears. But of course, that's what you're asking for...am I right?"** _

I quickly turned to her, eyes widened. _**"Tell me, mortal. Where do you stand? With my people, as my instrument, or my pet?"**_

She said, whispering in my ear.

I turned to her, anger coursing through my veins.

"Fuck you...and your people."

She smiled bitterly. _ **"I had such high hopes for you. Oh well...maybe a little time in a cell will change your mind. Vasha. Take custody of her."**_

Vasha glared darkly at the daedric prince. "That wasn't part of the deal." **_"Consider it an alteration. Defy me, and I'm sure my followers would make great use of you. After all, this is winter, and blankets have become scarce."_** Vasha's fists tightened, and he inhaled sharply. "For how long?" questioned Vasha. He stood next to me, eyes narrowed in a glare.

Boethiah gazed at him lazily, her back turning towards me.

_**"Until I deem otherwise."** _

She looked over her shoulder, gave one last glance at me, and her eyes widened, glowing a vivid purple. A piercing screech ringed in my ears, and suddenly, all was darkness.

 

***

 

 

 

I awoke groggily, my lips, and throat dry, devoid of water. My joints ached, and my wrists felt incredibly numb. I forced myself awake, noticing my wrists were suspended and my back was against the wall. My clothes had been reduced to rags, and I heard a clap across the room. There, the cat sat. His eyes glowed in the dim lit room, and his face shown amusement.

He stood, and approached me. "Never in my life, have I ever met someone as bold and gullible as you. It's a shame, really. It didn't have to come to this." Vasha stood inches away from me, his height of 7 ft easily towering over me. I glared daggers at him, and his smile only widened. "Let me guess? The silent treatment? Aren't you a bit old for that? Hmm?" He said, gripping my chin playfully, as if we knew each other like brother and sister. My gaze only darkened, almost trying to will him to burn into flames. Never in my life had I wanted to actually kill someone so badly. If given the chance, I would relish in the memry of taking the cat's life as slowly and as painful as possible. "Why did you do this? What could you've possible gained?" I asked through gritted teeth.

He only gave me a sinister smile, releasing my chin. "A great many things." He said, turning his back to me. "Aside from wealth and protection, well...you." I gulped, and my stomach churned. "You sick bastard..." "I did it for the best. I didn't put you in this position. You brought this on yourself; insulting a daedra...you would've been in a more comfurtable situation if you hadn't done that." Vasha gestured all around us. "And yet here we are. I did this for you, can't you see that?" "You sick bastard, I didn't ask for this! I-" Vasha leaped forward, gripping my chin tightly. "But you did. I gave you what you what you wanted; I took you away from that life. the life you left behind."

I trembled, praying he was lying. But a man like that...would have no reason to. "What do you mean?"I asked softly. "Does it matter? You're free. And you can start anew. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"If you think you can keep me here, you're wrong. My brothers are coming for me. And they will slaughter you like a pig and skin you alive!" I screamed.

Vasha'a smile faded, and his posture was very serious and demeaning. His face was now inches to mine, and his cat eyes stared into my own. "They're not coming to save you, Lillith."

Vasha wasn't smiling. His complete demeaner changed. Dread and terror consumed me. "What did you do?" I asked, wanting to know, not wanting to know. He backed away slowly, his expression unchanging.

"You're sanctuary has been burned to the ground. The Night Mother's corpse has been destroyed. And your brothers are dead."

The world shattered before me. Sorrow and grief in its greatest form consumed me. Memories of my brothers flashed in front of me. I was filled with tremendous regret. Without a shread of dignity, I weeped in front of the cat. Tears broke through the damn that was holding them for so long, and my heart hurt...so much. I knew long ago that this would be the only way to leave my life behind...I just didn't wanna face it. I didn't want it to weigh heavily on my heart...like it does now. Even thought I hated being with them...they actually felt like a true family. They were all I had left. And Vasha took them from me.

"Come now...you knew this would have to happen. You knew that...and yet you weep for them. Don't worry. I won't make you regret this. I promise." He whispered in my ear. I felt my lower rags being torn off easily. I knew what was to come.

 

***

 

I hurt everywhere. Especially below. And I feel shame...The very cat I let into the Sanctuary...the very cat I followed and told my deepest secret...it all led to this trap. I was just too blind to see it. But I think back, and realize that...maybe I just didn't listen to the signs. I ignored them. My desperation clouded my judgement...and it became my ultimate price. I wanted to be free-more than anything. But I realize now, it came at a great cost. I didn't feel as happy as I thought I would.

I don't know how long it’s been. Ten minutes feel like ten hours. Everything feels blurred together. I can memorize almost every object in the room. The walls look as if they're made of ancient stone. The ceiling has an iron-rusted chandelier, candles melted and unlit. The ground has a bunch of blankets of many colors sprawled all over. A dimly lit lamp rest upon a bed and a door is cracked open. I want to escape. More than anything. But it’s impossibility. My wrists are numb beyond belief, and my body aches from being suspended in a position for so long. My bones ache, and I feel like I'll never die. My greatest nightmare has become a reality.

 

Vasha has betrayed me. I'm a hostage. My only home has been burned to the ground. And my brothers lie dead. A pain like no other strikes my heart. Cicero is dead. Cicero, the fool I loved dearly like a brother. He was the only reason why I stayed in that hellish place. He was the only one who was actually there for me. And yet, I never told him. He died not knowing the truth that I held inside for so long. The truth that I never wanted to be in the Dark Brotherhood. But how could've I told him that? Cicero holds everything in the Dark Brotherhood so dearly. He always wanted to be the Listener. I knew that much. And he only idolized me because I spoke the ancient words he waited to hear for so long. I knew that he envied me. Dangerously so. He would take my life if given the chance. The only thing that held him against that was The Night Mother.

 

Anyone who wanted to leave the Dark brotherhood had only one way: by blade. I think that there's a really sick part of me that wished Cicero could've been the one to do it. The truth would've saved me from all of this. I wouldn't have to live with this regret...or this pain. And Cicero would've known the truth. I still don't know why that seems so important. My feelings with this whole situation are twisted and confusing. Nothing makes sense anymore. In the beginning, nothing did. I realize that I've forgotten many things in my past. I forgot the life I had before the Dark brotherhood. Everything feels so blurred together...I have only been in this guild for 3 years, but it feels much longer. And it’s ended. Forever. I thought I'd be relieved.

 

Vasha has come in the room more than once. He never tortured me or mocked me. He would always bring a plate of food that I'd refuse to eat. My stomach growled in protest, but I ignored it almost easily. I wanted to die. So bad. Starvation is my only way. Vasha would always plead, and I would ignore him. He offered many things. He said he'd release me from these chains if I obeyed him. His offers were never what I wanted. I wanted to be free. Either outside and far away, or in the void.

 

 

 

It feels like I've been here for years. The last time Vasha approached me for a meal, his attire looked like a jester's motley. I can feel my own sanity slipping. My thoughts always return to my memories of Cicero. How he taught me to read, to learn...to laugh. Cicero was always on my mind. He was my greatest sorrow, and my greatest joy. It’s a maddening twist, but I don't care.

 

My memories return to his journals. His elegant writing, his very complex words...although I barely understood his writing, I thought his literature was amazing. His very description...beautiful. There is one definite thing I remember of how he became insane. His transformation into the jester...I could see it in the writings. His madness was caused by isolation. And I know that feeling only too well... I wished I had gotten to know the man he once was. Because the journals seem like they're written by two different people.

 

 

 

The lines between dreams and reality seem blurred together. I am living in his journals. I am living in a memory. A memory that is not my own. As my BODY ACHES painfully, I can feel myself drifting...I can feel myself leaving. Slowly. Inch by inch, as if Sovngarde is calling me. As if the heavens are waiting for me...mourning for me.

 

Cicero's journals are my only memories now. They're all I want. They're all I need.

 

I'm surprised. The feel of reality is returning. Nothing has changed. I am still in Vasha's tower. Vasha was never torturing me either. Aside from being suspended against the cold wall, he's done nothing else to hurt me. Every day, he tries to force food down my throat. And I throw it BACK UP. It's not really by choice alone. My body won't accept anything other than water. And that's all I can accept.

 

I can hear myself talking aloud all the time. It's as if I can never speak my thoughts on the inside anymore. I find myself quoting Cicero's journal. "Silence, silence, silence...deafening silence. In my head, in my head...it is the silence of death. The silence of the void. Seeping through me, from The Night Mother..."

 

"The silence is hatred. The silence is rage. The silence is **_love_**."

 

I was never worthy of being Listener. What did the Night Mother see in me? What strength did she see that I couldn't? Or was it weakness? I don't know anymore. I don't care. She's not going to save me.

 

The Night Mother made this happen. She was the cause of everything. She was the cause of Cicero's madness. She was the cause of fear. And she was the cause of me. She spoke to me. And she stopped speaking. Why? Why? Why? WHY?!

 

The Night Mother brought this! Her silent treatment was what did all of this! If it weren't for this, we wouldn't be here! Vasha would've never come to me! And Babette would still be alive!

 

I remember how Babette died. She went on a killing spree by herself. We found her corpse on our doorstep 3 days after she left. It hurt us all. An excellent killer. And a very sweet girl...

 

Did The Night Mother exist? Did she truly speak to me? Or was it all a lie? Have I been insane from the start?

 

I must be insane. I can hear Cicero's voice. Tears swell up once more. I'm surprised I have any left. I can feel my wrists being touched softly. But...the hands. They don't feel like Vasha's furry paws...My eyes feel sown shut by sleeping grits and tears. My lips and throat and mouth are dry like a desert. And my bones feel numb with a tingling sensation. I can feel someone...setting me loose. The cuffs surrounding my hands are gone. But I don't have the strength to move them. My limbs feel heavy. I am being held in someone's warm embrace. And for some strange reason, I want to be hanging from the wall again. It hurts a little less.

 

I can feel gloved hands caressing my face...this is a dream. This isn't real. I whimpered, trying to hold back a sob. Whoever this is...he smells like winter. He smells like mint. He smells like mountain flowers.

 

My mouth parts and a single word escape my lips."...Cicero?" I ask, knowing it's just a dream. Knowing it could never be him.

 

It takes a moment for the stranger to speak. And his answer is nothing I ever expected to hear in life. Or in death. Not even in my mad mind.

 

 

 

_"...Yes, my Listener?"_


	2. 2

My eyes snapped open, and my vision was blinded momentarily. It felt as if I had opened my eyes for the first time...like I forgot how to see. What I saw before me...a maddening swirl of emotions swelled at the pit of my stomach. It was maddening...it was wonderful. I had to touch him. I had to know he was real. I weakly reached out to touch his cheek. It was soft, but roughed a bit with burn marks. It was chilled, it was warm...And it was _him_. Happiness and sorrow swelled inside me. Now I had a chance. I could tell him everything. And he could end me, just like I wanted. He could kill me. He could save me... “My Listener…” He said, stroking my cheek.

I looked at him, my weak eyes widened and my voice hoarse. “How…?” _How did you survive? Why are you here? Are you even real?_ My lips trembled. I was speechless. Cicero looked down at me sadly, and he inhaled sharply. He hugged me tightly against him, and I didn’t resist. I felt his lips brush against my ear. “Cicero warned you…Cicero warned you about traveling with…with the _feline_.” I could feel venom in his words. His fingers dug deep into my shoulder blades, and I winced. “Cicero wanted to come with…he wanted to prevent this. But no-Listener didn’t listen. Listener should’ve listened!” He said, hugging me tighter. “Cicero only wanted to fulfill his position as Keeper. He wanted to keep the Listener safe! But no…the Listener-”

“Should’ve been you, not me…” I said, finishing his sentence. Cicero pulled back, giving me a look of quizzical shock. I gulped, knowing that now was the time. “Cicero…there’s something I’ve been keeping from you for a while now…I’ve wanted to tell you this for so long. I-“ The tower shook abruptly, sending me and Cicero hard against the pavement.

Our worst fears were confirmed when we heard the large swoosh of a Dragon’s wings, and a roar that could’ve been heard from miles away. The tower began to rumble, and sand spilled from the ceiling. Cicero and I scrambled to the door, and we crawled down the spiral staircase. The tower violently shook, and the blow knocked us to the end of the stairs. We found the exit, but just as we pulled each other up, the ceiling came down, and soon all was darkness.

***

When I awoke, I couldn’t see anything but pitch black. Darkness, all around me… Everywhere.

…Was I even alive? For all I knew, I could be in the Void; a place as silent as death, and darker than night. I shivered violently at the thought.

I began touching myself, desperately trying to prove that I’m alive. I could feel a pulse in both wrists, and I exhaled deeply. I couldn’t tell if my eyes were opened or not. I jolted forward. “Cicero!” I called out, touching rubble and debris, trying to feel something…something hopefully alive. I stood, running in random directions, finding that the area around me was quite less cramped than I imagined it to be. I touched the wall and felt the shape of the area around me. It was like a makeshift…pyramid. I could barely reach the inner tip; a crack broke through, sending a rush of wind inside and a faint light of either dawn or dusk. I heard a small groan from behind me. “Cicero!” I screamed, rushing towards him. He was on his knees, and his hands grasping his head tightly. I practically dragged him in the middle of the rubble, trying to get a glimpse of his wounds.

His motley was shredded on his shoulders and legs, revealing inch deep wounds and faint scars. I pried his hands apart, and held his face in both my hands. His eyes were closed, but his cheeks were reddened with blisters and burns, and he had a huge dent on his forehead. His eyes opened abruptly, and he looked up, whimpering. I followed his gaze and saw that it was night. His face looked paler in the moonlight. “Cicero?” I asked, slightly shaking him. Cicero gave me a very vacant look, fear still in his eyes. “Cicero!” I said louder, shaking him. He blinked and looked at meconfused. “Yes, my Listener?” He said, pulling my hands away from him. I sighed. I felt really exhausted and slid down against the wall. Holding my knees to my chest, I whimpered. Cicero sat before me, holding my ankles and resting his chin on my lap. “Cicero…I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t want it to be this way. You-“ “Cicero understands. Cicero is not angry with Listener. Cicero could never be angry at Lilith.” He said, holding me in his warm embrace. He held me against him as one would a loved one. My cheeks blushed darkly. I never thought of Cicero in a romantic way, mind you. But I didn’t know how I truly felt about him. All I knew is that in that very moment, I was loved. And I wasn’t worthy of it.

I buried my face in Cicero’s motley, weeping and sobbing like a baby. He only held me tighter, his chin resting on my head. “I read your journals.” I sobbed out. “I know everything about you. I idolize you in more ways than you could imagine…” “Cicero knows you read his journals.” He said chuckling. I looked into his eyes, and my tears stopped instantly. _“What?”_ I said, astonished. “Cicero purposely put them in plain sight. He wanted Lilith to read them. He watched Lilith read them.” He looked down at me with a smirk. “But…why?” I asked, curious. “Cicero knew you took interest in him. He wanted Lilith to know him even more. Know of his pain, his suffering…his life. But now you know. And Cicero couldn’t be happier.” He said, pinching my nose playfully. I barely noticed. I stared at him like a dumbfounded child caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. I did the one thing that many of Cicero’s victims did to him. I took him for granted. I made myself the bigger fool. Such sweet irony...

We held each other in a warm embrace, lying in the middle of the rubble, where the moonlight shone over us. Dawn wasn’t coming fast enough, and it was getting to Cicero. Cicero said nothing for a few minutes. And then it got to him; the silence. The very thing that drove him insane. Cicero began squinting his eyes shut tightly, humming. The humming grew louder and louder, until he began whimpering. I didn’t really know what to do, so I just hummed a familiar song I heard when I was little. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt Cicero’s hand slide up my neck and grip it. I calmed a bit when I realized he couldn’t hear it. So, I sang the song softly with the most memory I could. I inhaled sharply before I spoke, trying to make my nerves go away. And then…I sang.

_“Long, long ago in the time of winter’s woe…_

_“There lived a maiden tall and fair, kind and rare._

_“Many wanted and wished for her hand_

_“But she was promised to another man.”_

I hummed lowly, trying to remember the rest of the lyrics. Cicero was embracing me tightly and I couldn’t tell if it was from glee or fear.

_“A man unlike many other men, for he was a jester from this time way back when.”_

_“He was the fool of hearts, riddles rhyming jingled bell cap and all!”_

_“He who had won her heart, but it was love from the start.”_

I hummed; waiting for the next verse, realizing that maybe I was portraying the wrong message. I honestly wasn't sure how I felt about him. I didn't think it mattered though. When I looked up, Cicero was smiling and his gaze was vacant. That was a relief. And that was something I could live with.

_“Then one date, whilst they danced, they sang, and they ate, the fool asked for her hand, and the maiden cried happily.” “And he said, “Come unto me beneath the Willow Tree, thy maiden…Come unto the Willow tree when the stars are alight, and the wind is still, let’s run away! We’ll be okay!”_

_“Just take my hand, find solace in my warm embrace. Let’s make haste, tonight will be our last night, it will be the last of winter we’ll see. Come with me, and spend time in the summer with me for eternity.”_

_“I’ll be waiting beneath the Willow Tree; when the wind is still and the stars are alight, I’ll be there and you’ll be alright,” “With the promise of winter, despair, and misery left behind, the maiden ever so kind, took his hand and promised and prayed to await his return...beneath the Willow tree.”_

I abruptly stopped singing. This is when the story was going to shatter. The next part was very grotesque and cruel, and it was the last thing I’d want to reach Cicero’s ears. Normally, I wouldn’t mind. But with Cicero’s current state, he’d be unpredictable. Cicero looked down at me confused. I merely hummed, trying to think of new lyrics. The story tells that the Fool slaughtered the maiden and ate her heart, and that's who the werewolf was from the start. I wished I had remembered. Finally, I just jumped in.

_“And just as he told her to do, she awaited his promised return beneath the Willow tree…”_

_“She waited when the wind was still, the stars were alight…but he was nowhere in sight.”_

_“The maiden waited when the stars were alight, and beneath the Willow tree. Waiting, and waiting...she hummed his last words to her, and waited, and waited...And he never came._

_“For someone had taken his place. The maiden gave a blood-curdling scream before she was chopped to pieces by a werewolf. The Jester never came, and nothing was ever the same.”_

_“She weeps even in death, waiting for him to this day…”_

_“Every winter you can hear an aria echoing in the forest. You can hear her say, “Come unto me…beneath the Willow tree. When the stars are alight and the wind is still…Embrace me one last time, hear me cry, hear me plead when I say…Come unto me, beneath the Willow treeeeeeeeeeee….”_

I gave a shaky breath, feeling Cicero hum the lyrics. I did it. Cicero lifted my chin and looked in my eyes, smiling. My heart began racing and I didn’t know why. Cicero gently pulled my chin closer to him own. My heart began racing faster and faster… And that’s when I saw a familiar cat face; Vasha. I screamed and flailed, snapping my eyes shut and flipping out. I could practically hear Vasha’s throaty laughter, feel his furry paws, and then… “Listener!” I heard Cicero scream. I slowly opened my eyes…And he was gone. Vasha’s face disappeared, and I only saw Cicero’s worried face looking at me, both his hands were gripping my face. I stared at him dumb-founded. What just happened? “Lilith? What did I do? What’s wrong?” He asked. My mind was blank. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. Fear was still lingering like a faint ringing in the distance…but with a promise of return. I wanted to say something. Only a few words came out of my parted lips that Cicero could barely hear.

 

“Cicero…end my misery.”


	3. 3

“Cicero…end my misery.”

 

Cicero looked at me puzzled. He said nothing.

 

“Cicero…I never wanted to be a part of this. I never wanted to be an assassin. I…” I couldn’t look in his eyes. I couldn’t look at him. I felt a huge lump in the back of my throat. My tears slid down without effort, and my knees trembled. I forced myself to continue. “I never wanted to be the Listener.” I gripped his shoulders without looking at him. The suspense was both unnerving and threatening. My grip on Cicero’s shoulders was vice-like, and I was trembling all over. The longer he said nothing, the more it grew. We stood there for a while, saying nothing, and it was getting to me.

 

“Cicero…say something…please.” I asked, hugging him tightly and burying my face in his chest. He didn’t return the embrace. I felt like I was hugging a statue. I snapped almost instantly. “SAY SOMETHING! PLEASE!” I screamed.

 

“…Cicero doesn’t care.” He said simply. I looked up at him in confusion. This was not him. Or was it? Has Cicero truly forsaken his belief in the Night Mother?

 

“Whatever remains of the cause, I will protect. The Night Mother chose you. And I will still follow. No matter what remains of the Dark Brotherhood. Without The Listener and the Night Mother, we would be nothing. You are all that’s left, and I will keep you from harm. Forever and always…” He said, hugging me into his chest tightly.

 

My entire world has shattered. All hope was lost. Cicero didn’t love me for me. He loved me because I was the Listener. Deep down somewhere beneath many layers, I knew that was true. And that was all that Cicero loved. On impulse, I flailed and screamed.

 

“NO! NO! YOU DON’T GET IT! I NEVER WANTED THIS! I NEVER WANTED TO BE LISTENER! I DON’T WANT TO LIVE THIS LIFE! I DON’T WANT TO RE-LIVE THE HORRORS THAT HAVE CONSUMED ME ALL THESE YEARS! I DON’T WANT TO BE THE MONSTER I ONCE WAS, OR THE PUPPET I AM NOW! THE NIGHT MOTHER IS GONE- DON’T YOU GET IT?! OUR FAMILY IS GONE! WE ARE ALL THAT IS LEFT! AND I DON’T WANT TO LIVE THE REST OF MY LIFE WITH BLOOD AND FEAR!”

 

I felt really dizzy. I was breathing heavily. And I wasn’t finished.

 

“Cicero…I am a traitor in your eyes, and I’ve masked it for so long. And I’ve been waiting for this day for far too long. I wanted to leave the Dark Brotherhood since the day I joined. And then you and…she…came. It was both a relief and regret…meeting you…and…I…I…I…” I was hyperventilating. Before I knew it, I was dragging Cicero to the ground with me, and he was looking at me in shock. I was lying on my belly and I had a killer grip on Cicero’s wrist. My vision blurred and I felt really sleepy. I fought with all my might.

 

“Cicero…KILL ME!!!! I can’t live with this! I can’t live with the Night Mother; I can’t live with the killings, and…and…! And! And…!”

 

Something was wrong. My chest hurt really badly. I couldn’t breathe at all. A pulsating rang echoed in my ears and I felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me. I was sweating like I had run for hours. I felt sick to my stomach, and so very tired. My chest was pounding really hard, and I didn’t know what was happening. And I wouldn’t let it stop me. I fought it with all my might, trying to finish what I was saying as if my life depended on it.

 

“…I…I…” my memory was fading within seconds. I could see Cicero’s lips opening as if he were speaking…but no noise came out. All that mattered in that small eternity was making him hear me for the first time. He could hear me and know of my pain…my suffering. “…I…I…I…I d-didn’t…w-want…w…want…this….I…I…” No! I’m so close! I have to finish! He has to hear me! He needs to know! Please! I’m begging you! Don’t take this from me! Don’t!

 

I felt the ground below me shake, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care. My body wouldn’t listen. IT wouldn’t let me finish. The room caved in, and all was darkness.

 

***

 

 

_I can hear howling…and it’s so far away... I open my eyes, and I’m shocked by what I see. An endless shade of black everywhere…and this place…it feels ancient. A silhouette forms in the middle of the floor. And slowly, the blackness fades from the figure’s body. A very old woman stands before me. She’s looks so old that she can’t be human. Her skin is pale like the moon, and her eyes are a shadow of a ghostly gray. She is dressed in only a black robe, barely covering her porcelain skin. She is bald and a very powerful power emanates from her. I can feel a strong sense of remembrance. She feels as if she is fear incarnate. She is glaring darkly at me._

**_“Listener…how I have missed you.”_ **

_“Night Mother…” I seethed. Never had I seen her in person like this. I had only seen her corpse…and heard her voice. Her voice…soft, scratchy, and demonic…_

_**“I remember when you first arrived to the Sanctuary, long before I came. You were so full of fear and hatred…so much hatred…I could feel it thousands of miles away, through my iron tomb…I knew you would be perfect…you would be the one who’d change many things…** ”_

_“Why did you choose me? I was the lesser of them. I was the runt of the litter- a nobody. And you…you brought me into this. You did it for your own sick amusement!” I said, pointing at her, venom dripping within each word._

_“You could’ve chosen anyone! Cicero wanted it most! He deserved it most!”_

**_“Oh sweet Lilith, I did this for a reason. Do you remember what Boethiah said? Of your spirit, that was kin to hers?”_ **

_I said nothing. The Night Mother raised an imaginary brow and walked towards me._

**_“You are more than worthy of my voice. No one has a gift such as you. My tomb may be gone, but because of you…I am able to live once again. And I know now that I was a fool; to think I could control you? You, of all of them? You are a fallen relic, long forgotten and never to be remembered. I am immensely intrigued as to how the Daedric Prince of Insurrection was able to uncover such a forgotten soul like you. And do you want to know the most ironic thing? You don’t even know what the Daedra are. You, whose soul has been ancient like time itself. And you possess no memory of the being you once were.”_ **

_“What are you talking about?”_

_**“Even now, as everything hangs in the balance. Even now, when all Provinces and people are about to need you most. You, who will change everything, I was a fool to think I could control you, ancient kin. And now, I am paying the price dearly.”** _

_“What the hell are you talking about? You still haven’t told me why you stopped speaking, why you brought this!”_

_**“My Husband and King, Sithis…the Dread Lord, bid me not to meddle with mortal affairs. He told me what was coming. And he told me to silence myself; should I ever wish to exist.”** _

_“You’re being too vague; I don’t understand any of this. And I highly doubt I am what you think I am! I am not a…a…”_

**_“…Daedra? Well, you’re not as unwitty as you were earlier. There is one other thing you must know. The Oblivion crisis will be nothing compared to this. That was only a taste._ **

_**“War is coming. A war that your people will never be ready for. So long as you are clueless and refuse to acknowledge who and what you are, you will forever be doomed.** _

**_You, Ravenna Gold, Daedric Prince of Reincarnation, Change and Morality, are the embodiment of change itself._ **

**_“And who you trust, where your loyalties lie, and where you stand is all that matters now. Cicero will follow you until the end. And when you die, you will be born again and people will follow you to the depths of every Oblivion!_ **

**_“Hear me now, Daedra! I punish you for your act of betrayal and hereby nullify your title, your place, and your existence by my side and by my people. When you die, you will be born again into your true godly form, and your life will be changed forever. And when Cicero dies, he will take your original place. He will forever be at my side, and you will never see him again!”_ **

**_“I have answered and revealed your true existence! This will be the last time you ever hear my voice…for you are no longer worthy. BE GONE!”_ **

_I could feel flames rising up my back and bathing my body in a sickening unrealistic pain. I flailed and I screamed, but the pain would grow impossibly worse._

**_“And may you forever bathe in your own fear, remorse, and blood!”_ **

 

***

 

“Aela…she’s barely breathing.”

“Farkas, she’s just a little sickly. There’s nothing we can do about it until we go to Whiterun.”

“What of the Fool?”

“Leave him. He’s not who we came for.”

“Aela, you know that isn’t the way of a Companion.”

“Fine, but if the Forsworn come back, you’ll be the one to deal with them. Just carry him. We’ll be in Whiterun before dawn if we hurry. Our master is waiting, and we must make haste.


	4. Chapter 4

I awoke with a pounding headache and my sight was hazy. I could see a figure towering over me. As my vision cleared, I could finally see the man before me. He was attired in a bluish wool tunic with chinks in a native forsworn like manner, and a hood that nearly hid his face. He was tall and broad, and muscled. In the dim light of the room, his face could be seen. His eyes were auburn brown, and his face was chiseled, and looked full of scars from a battlefield. His expression was serious and weary.  
“Welcome to Jorrvaskr, home of the Companion’s Guild. I am the Harbinger, and the Headmaster of the College of Winterhold. My brothers have tended your wounds and bathed you and dressed you.”

I sat up slowly, feeling the white smock hug my body. I groaned from the sudden rush of blood to my brain, and put pressure to my temples in an effort to rid the pulsating pain. “Why did you bring me here? And where is Cicero?”

“The fool? His wounds are being tended as we speak. He’s yet to awaken.” I bolted up right, and my legs fell beneath me, sending me against the bedframe. “I…need to see him.” I said, trying to regain my balance. My legs felt like jelly, and my mind was hazy. “You are in no condition to leave this room, much less walk. Especially given the trouble you’re in, Lilith.”

I whipped my head to him, pursing my lips together in a sneer. “I take it you’ve heard of me? And to what do I owe this dubious pleasure…harbinger? Have you brought me here for your own amusement? What are you going to do? Treat me like a mutt and throw me out when you’re bored? Or use me as target practice for your students at the college?”

The Harbinger gave a small look of annoyance that was quickly replaced by a smirk. “Are you daft or just too injudicious for your own good?” He said, strolling towards me.

I rolled my eyes. “Oooh, big word. You think I care of what you are? Or what you signify? I have no interest in staying in the company of warriors that are too proud for their own good. So if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” I said, awkwardly walking towards the door.

“And where will you go? You’re the most wanted person throughout the Imperial province. You are a fugitive, and a cat is willing to pay over a hundred-thousand septims for your body, or your corpse. Not to mention his charges dropped.”

I gazed at him in horror. “…Vasha?”

The Harbinger snorted. “What do you think?”

* * *

"Lilith, I am your only hope for survival. If you reject me, I cannot guarentee your safety."

"I have only one question...why?"

"Why am I doing this? Lilith, do you even know who I am?"

"Harbinger of the Companions of Jorrvaskr, and the Headmaster of the College of Winterhold...you are no doubt the Dragonborn. You really think that impresses me? You're a Nord just like almost everyone around Skyrim; you're a racist stuck up arrogant buffoon who takes his so-called 'honor' to heart and finds no other race worthy of equal rights or freedom. You're the so-called hero that slayed Alduin and slayed numerous Dragons. If any of that is true, then where were you when that Dragon sent a tower of rubble over my head?!"

"I may be the Dragonborn, but I have limits and strengths just like any other individual. I am a mortal man. I cannot be at your every beck and call. Lillith, I saved you for a reason. Do you know why?"

I pursed my lips together with narrowed eyes. "Why?" I sneered.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when Helgan was destroyed. I did look everywhere for you. I tried to find you. All these years...I never thought my daughter would grow into such a beautiful woman."

My world shattered before me like so many times before...but the ultimate irony is that nothing was of comparison to this overwhelming sensation...not even near hearing the death of my comrads from the mouth of that foul feline.

"Lilith, I have looked all around Skyrim for you. And now that I've found you, I will protect you."

"No...this..."

"Lilith, I know that this is a lot to take in, so I'll leave you alone for a while-"

A loud knock on the door interupted us. "Jhono...The fool's awake. He's become restless. We've been trying to restrain him, but he's..."

"I'll be there, give me a moment."

Jono sighed deeply. "Your fool's probably looking for you. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to put him to sleep. Neither of you are in any condition to leave your rooms for a few days. I promise, when you're both healed, I'll let you roam around. Sleep well."

With that, he left. The guy on the other side of the door stepped in. He wore steel armor with iron cuffs and carried a great sword. His was tall, broad, and chisled. His eyes were outlines with scribbles of war paint and his eyes were...gold. "So...You're the bastard daughter of Jhono Stormcrow. He never did shut up about you. Not that I blame him...but still, this is a lot to take in for all of us."

"No shit."

 

***

 

It's been 2 days already. I'm full of energy and fear, but the Companions won't let me see Cicero. I don't know how long he's going to be in there, and they won't tell me what's going on. The entire situation is maddenning. With no one to talk to, I'm left to my thoughts...and that's the last place I want to dwell within. Esspecially with everything that's happened to me. I feel so hollow inside...so vulnerable. I'm constantly looking in every shadow, every nook, and even under my bed. I feel as if a thousand eyes are watching me at every angle. Spending time in my room alone with no books and nothing to do has led me to napping most of the day away. The cat that took my only essence of innocence...he has found a way to torment me in my dreams. I can feel him tearing my clothes off and hear his sick laughter...Everynight I wake up in a cold sweat, not knowing where I am and sometimes...who I am. There were times that I woke up seeing shackles, chains, and stone walls...

The nightmares are re-occuring and endless. It's a constant reminder that I'm not aloud to forget. It's torture. It's madness.

On the third day, I found out that Cicero was still asleep...and that he never woke up. I found it confusing because of what a companion told me and Jhono not too long ago. I was then told that he acted out in a dream-like state. Jhono let me see Cicero without hesitation after I heard the news. When I saw Cicero, my jaw dropped. He looked as if he aged 60 years in his sleep. His motley was gone and reduced to rags on the bedside table beside him. All he wore was his jester hat and his wool blanket. His torso was heavily bandaged in white cotton and stains of black were spread largley above his gut.

I asked Aela, the one who tended to Cicero if she knew what was wrong. Turns out that Cicero was unconcious for quite a while due to a piece of silver shrapnel found in the back of his head. Blood leaked out when he was in his dream-like state and he was given a mix of Imp stool and swamp fungle pods(mushrooms). It was a weak paralysis medicine that would make him calm. Cicero lyed there still and stiff like a tree, not even moving.

***

My Father hasn't spoken to me since that day I awoke meeting him. He's left me alone and I rarely see him within the Guild. In a way, I'm glad. I can barely stomach his presence as it is. It's already been two weeks, and I'm as healthy as a horse. I wish that I could say the same for my Fool. Even worse, he's yet to awaken. Everyday, I check up on him. I spend hours in his room alone and kneeling on his bed, praying to some god that would answer my prayers. I've prayed to Mara the Goddess of compassion and friendship, Arkay the God of Life and Death, and even Stendarr...the god of mercy and justice.

My prayers have gone unanswered. Did the God's even exist? After all that's happened, why are the Daedra more powerful? How can these benevolent God's just let this happen?! Where's the mercy?! Where is the love?! Where is the forgiveness?!

And the Night Mother... I can't get what she said out of my head;

**_“ ..Cicero will follow you until the end. And when you die, you will be born again and people will follow you to the depths of every Oblivion!"_ **

Her words echoe in my mind like a loud screech...

**_"...when Cicero dies, he will take your original place. He will forever be at my side, and you will never see him again!”_ **

I can never forget her promise of Cicero's demise. She knew where to hurt me most. I don't know where she stands...She is no God. She is an abomination. Like Boethiah. I never knew about the Daedra...I never knew that there could've been a more evil deity than the unholy matron. What are these creatures? What do they want? And why do they have so much power?

More importantly...how could I've let this happen? I was a fool to trust Vasha's word. And now, I'm paying the price. Nazir is dead, Babbette is dead...and I've no doubt that Cicero is soon to follow.

Days pass by quicker than usual, and I can see dramatic changes in Cicero's body. I can see his body growing limp and skinnier. I begged Aela to do something about it, but she told me that he needed to fight it on his own. I hated this! All I could do was sit there and wait for him to awaken...if he awakened. If Cicero died, I would be crushed. I would have nothing. No one.

I can't help but think back to our kiss. In spite of what I felt at that time, I feel disgusted by it now. My feelings towards him was...confusing. I didn't love him like I did when we were trapped. Maybe it was the situation that brought the feelings.

It's been a month. Cicero has yet to awaken. And I'm beyond worried. I haven't left Jorvaskr since I've been there. I've heeded my Father's advice of not showing my face.

One morning, I was rudely awakened a couple hours before dawn by a Companion. Vilkas was his name. He was broad and large like the other companions. He had short black hair, golden eyes, and he wore silver armor with a wolf broach on the belt and chestpiece. He glared down at me. "If you think I'm gonna let you sleep all day and night, you're mad. Get up and meet me outside for training."

"Training? Wait, I'm not supposed to..."

"No one treads the ground of Jorvaskrr other than companions. You will not be seen. Get ready." He said and left without another word.

When I came outside, I was shocked. It was a fullmoon, the stars were alight, and I never thought I had seen a more beautiful sight. I felt as if I had opened my eyes for the first time and seen the world as it truly was. Vilkas was waiting for me near a few weapon racks. He offered me his blade from his sheath. I touched the blade and felt the cool metal chill my fingers whilst reflecting the moon's light. "Take the blade to Graymane at the Skyforge. Tell him I want it sharpened. Anything happens to that blade and it's your head."

This was an odd test. However, I didn't question his teaching. I didn't even know why I was doing this. In a way, I was thankful for the distraction. When I gave the blade to the elderly blacksmith, I watched curiously as he dipped the blade into the pit of liquid flames. He then pulled it out, banging it with a hammer and dipped it into cool water. I had never seen a blacksmith at word. I would rarely buy weapons given the fact that when I joined the Dark Brotherhood, I was supplied with an enchanted uniform and unique weapons.

By the time the blade was done, dawn was already peeking above the mountains.

For the first time in forever, I realized how beautiful the sun was. I've been living in a world of darkness for the past 5 years. A world of sin, blood, murder, corruption, and sadness. Rarely any joy was felt in those times.

During my life as an assassin, I have been both enlightened and horrified by the things I've learned; it is easy to given to hatred, fear, and sorrow. Even Madness. I've lived my life in blood and fear. I felt like a bird with broken wings. Wanting and wishing to fly. But with no where to go, no where to hide.

Happiness, joy, and calmness is hard to come by when one is filled with doubt. But in a way, I've realized that those happy emotions are hard to work for. But when you reach the peak, it is most rewarding.

Evey day is a new begining. A new chance. A new story. A story of our lives that is written by our hearts, our ears, and our eyes. Our memories make us learn from our mistakes and encourage us to make our furture a better place.

 

As dawn approaches, I know that this is a sign. So long as there is day, there is a chance. I have a reason to live. A reason to stand up-a reason to believe. Whatever I am, whatever I came from doesn't matter. I make my own path.

 

So let dawn rise. Let it rise, let me live...and let me go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter.
> 
> Forgive me for the begining. I kinda rushed it due to the fact that I had lost my previous one. I hope you'll like it nonetheless!

The next few days have been of vigorous training that I find both weary and useful, thanks to Vilkas. I've been accepted into the Companion's Guild, and everyone treats me like family. The rules and the chain of command is entirely unorthadox. There is no 'leader'. The closest thing we have to one is the wisdom and advice of my dear Father, the Harbinger. Everyone here is independant, yet they are expected to complete certain tasks and jobs given to them by other members. All except me. I can't leave Jorvaskrr. I'm forbidden to leave. Given the circumstances, I can understand. But my thirst for revenge is ever greater. Vasha, the infamous drug dealer/assassin has put a bounty on my head. The complete irony is that he is a criminal. I may have killed Titas Mead II, but I'll bet a thousand septims that Vasha has commited far worse crimes for a far longer time. Esspecially given what he had taken from me. Vasha took something from me...something that can never be returned. And I'm not just going to let that go.  
I have no idea what my Father has planned, but given the time I've spent in Whiterun, I am strongly tempted to take my own chances. My Father seems to forget that I AM an assassin. I have been trained to hide within plain sight, and I've done it well for the past 4 years. As much as I want to leave, I'm still afraid. My Father has a point; I've no idea what to expect if I leave my only sanctuary. For all I know, Vasha and a hundred Imperial soldiers could be waiting behind the gates of Whiterun. I'm scared. I'm terrified. But I won't show it. Not to him. Not to anyone.

My Father wished to have a word with me one night. In the late hours of the night, I went to his room as instructed, not knowing what to expect. I found him sittting at a table, drinking deeply from a silver goblet. When he put the goblet down, I could see stress and weariness written plain as day. He gave me a weak smile, and gestered to the seat across from him. My legs swayed tiredly before responding. I sat on the hard wooden seat, my legs trembling in anticipation. "You wanted to see me, Harbinger?" I said tiredly. "Enough with the formalities. You are my daughter, and it's time you realized that. Now that aside, I've come up with a temporary solution that could arange you moving to another area."  
My eyes widened. "What do you have in mind?" My Father regarded me in a sorrowful yet solemnly manner. "I've considered taking you to High Hrothgar. It's considered to be one of the safest places in the world." I blinked twice. "...Are you serious? Where will I stay?"

"With the Greybeards of course."  
"Jono, that is completely unacceptable. The trek is long, and Vasha could have tabs on anyone. Not to mention how far east, near Riften..."

"Lilith, you let me worry about that. I know what I'm doing."

I gave him the darkest glare. "And I presume you came up with this brilliant idea during your first stages of intoxication? You must be completely insane if you think this is a plan. It's insulting to the very idea of a 'safe journey'."

"Lilith, you don't have much of a choice. I've found out that Vasha is residing in Riverwood with mercenaries of his own. He plans to come within Whiterun in a day or two."

I shook my head, fear chilling my bones. "That's...that can't be possible. He's a Khaijiit! They won't even let him in past the damn Caravans! He...! He...!"

"That cat has special tabs within the Empire. They'll let him in without question. And even if he didn't, you and I both know he'd find a way. You leave in two days-3 at the most. I'm gonna stall him for as long as I can."

"What of Cicero? I can't leave him here!"

"Don't worry about him. I've sent for a healer to arrive from the college. He should be fine."

"What if he has a bounty too? What if Vasha comes for him?"

"That doesn't matter. You're far more important than-"

"Doesn't matter?! Who are you to decide whose life is of greater value?! I will not stand idly by as my brother's life is in danger! I leave with him, or not at all!"

"Lilith, this isn't up for debate. Everything is already in motion. The Companions will guard him from danger whereas you'll be far from it. If you've forgotten, Vasha has it in his mind that Cicero died long ago. I'm sorry, Lilith, but that's how it's gotta be. You'll be staying with the Greybeards. It's the safest place in all of Skyrim. The Greybeards are the most powerful ancient people in this world, and no one would dare break the treaty. They are the ones who taught me to speak the ancient tongue of dragons. They are a force that no one would dare reckon with. You will be taught the ways of the voice, and discover much more things about yourself. You'd best say your goodbyes. You won't be returning for a while."

"...For how long?"

"That entirely depends on you."

For next couple days, I spent my share of money on sweets, clothes, and even some jewelry. It was dusk, and my arms were weighed heavily with goods as I was about to enter Jorvaskrr, I was approached by a mail courier. "Excuse me, ma'am...are you..." He leaned closely and whispered, "Lilith Ravenblade?" My heart sank deep within my chest and my legs felt like jelly, fear striking me almost instantly. "Who wants to know?" I snapped, my voice quivering...betraying my intent. The man raised his hands as if to surrender. "Look, I was payed a large sum of septims to walk over a thousand miles to give this to you." He said, reaching into his bag. "Give me what, exactly?" He pulled out a package of something obviously heavy. "Books...by the looks of it...you mind taking them?" He said, shoving them into my arms before I could respond. "Wait...there's one more thing...I know I had it somewhere-aha!" He pulled out a thin stack of letters and placed them above my package. "Who gave you this?" "Hmm? Oh, I don't know. Tall guy, hides his face, didn't really say much. Only that he was a friend. Look's like that's it. Got to go." He said, running off. I didn't really say much to anyone when I entered Jorvaskrr. I was too eager to open the package and find out who gave me these things. When I entered my room, I locked all the bolts and even pushed my dresser against it. There were two stacks of notes, and I opened the one that was titled 'To a Friend'.

 

 

                                 

                    _ **"Lilith,**_

 

_**We've never met, I know that. I said what I could just to get the note to you. You never realized this, but I've been watching you all your life. I was there during Helgan, I was an assassin in YOUR guild and I was your...well, your friend. You don't remember anything of your Daedric self, I know that. But given time, I'm sure you'll reclaim your long lost memories. I can't say much right now. I can't tell you who I am, what my intentions are, or anything. I'm being hunted as we speak.** _

_**Anyone should be able to track this letter before it is given to you, and I can't give you vital information unless we are face-to-face. I'm sorry. But I will tell you this; I am an old friend. We never met in Nirn, but we met in other places. These books should help you understand your roots better than I can explain.** _

_**I know you're with Jono Stormcrow. Don't tell him anything about this letter. Esspecially now. You don't want anyone's life to be in danger. Before I end this letter, know this: The Daedra are watching. They come in many forms, and they will make themselves known. DO NOT converse with them. Try your hardest to avoid them completely. After what happened with Boethiah, you know this. Read the books I gave you. Absorb the knowledge within, and do not write me back. I will meet you in High Hrothgar within the year.** _

 

_**-Familiar"** _

 

I peered at the colorful books and their titles.

_Book of Daedra_

_Book of Aedra_

_Wabbajack_

_Spirits of Nirn_

_Songs of the return_

_Legend of the Red Eagle_

_Boethiah's calling_

_Beware the Werewolf_

_The Beggar Prince_

_Code of Malacath_

_History of the Mythic Dawn_

_The Amulet of Kings_

_Potema dynasty_

_Tale's of Clavicus...and the unlucky_

_Sanguine and drinking tips_

_Madman with no Motive_

_Martin Septim_

_Patron of thieves_

 

_Barbas and company..._

 

It escapes me of how that courier carried all of these.

 

 

***

 

 

Spending time in my Father's Library has been a nice way to pass the time. One of the books actually caught my interest though. As I picked it up and gazed at the tilte 'Mind of Madness', Everything changed. The book opened itself and sucked me within.

I awoke feeling very dizzy and confused. I couldn't remember what I last did, or when I went to bed. I even forgot who I was for a couple minutes. It was horrifying. My vision was blurry and my ribcage felt as if they were kicked in. My throat felt like it was on fire. **"Finally awake? You looked dead. But I suppose all mortals do when they sleep. Or when they die...well, either way, it's good to see you."** Said a richly accented voice. My vision unblurred slowly as I gazed upon my surroundings. It was very...misty. The ground felt almost like a swamp. I heard footsteps approach me, and I bolted upwards. My legs felt like jelly, and I was already getting a headache. When I gazed upon the man, he was no where near normal. His eyes iris was a golden catlike, his skin peachy, and his suit...a swirl of a purple and red tuxedo of sorts with a golden trim, and a walking cane in hand.  
**"It's always the same questions... Who are you? Where am I? What are you? Is it true about the cheese? Is it really to die for? Don't worry, you wont need to stress your puny mortal mind. I am Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness! ...And other things. I'm not going to talk about them. I don't want to. I don't need to. I don't... _feel_ like it."** My eyes widenned slightly. My legs trembled in fear, and I felt chills run down my spine as this merry madman grinned ear-to-ear. "D-Daedric Prince? Oh no..." Sheogorath raised a brow. **"I take it you've never heard of me? Oh well, lucky you! You get to see me, in the flesh! Cast your puny mortal eyes on my magnificence!"**  
I merely blinked twice.  
**"You know? I like you. I don't know why, but I feel as if we'll be great friends one day. Tell you what...if you read the entire book, I'll give you your hearts desire! Now...I am bored. I've got a lot on my plate aside from eggs and ham, and I don't want to share it with anybody! You got it?! Get it?! GOOD! Hahahahaha! Aha...Oh damn. You'd best get back. Eh, begone with ya."**

 

***

 

I'll never forget what happened to me last night. As I clutch the book close to my heart, I tread upon the road near my carriage. I take my leave, memories of my brother behind me, and an unknown future ahead of me. I pray that one day soon, I'll know who I am...where I belong, and where I'll stand. Until then, fare-thee-well Father...Fare-thee-well my old life.

 

 

***

A very old man dressed in gray robes of a monk and a long grey beard smiled warmly, his gaze seeming to melt the winter around me. “Welcome, daughter of Dovakiin. I am Arngeir.”

High Hrothgar is a very wintry, windy, and dangerous mountain. The Greybeard’s fort is a giant black castle, marked with neither flag nor symbol. The castle itself practically echoes with mystery and wonder.

“To master the way of the Voice takes will, concentration, and patience. The best way to reach that is through meditation. To learn the thu’um, one must reach enlightenment. When you learn our ways, you can do as you please with your new-found gift…and curse. I will neither persuade nor dissuade your decision, for your path is your own. All I recommend is for you to take caution and to respect our ways, even if they are far from your own.”

I met three others dressed in the same attire as he. One even bumped into me along the way. He merely bowed his head. I arched a brow. "He cannot speak, his voice is too great. A single whisper could kill you." I merely nodded, pushing past him. We entered a thin hallway, filled with shrines of Akatosh lit by sunlight and candles. "Meditate. You must have a clear mind before we begin. I will send word for you when you are ready."

***

I’ve reached enlightenment…in my meditation; I can leave my body by will and even leave High Hrothgar. I’m like a ghost…yet I live. I can feel things I haven’t felt since my childhood, and live within my old memories. I can do so much…I can send telepathic messages to those monks that cannot speak. And now I know why they can’t speak. Their voice is too powerful, too strong. A single whisper could shake this fort, cause an earthquake…kill me. I know that most of the monks are sad because of this. And I can understand why. I kept my mouth shut when I was in the Dark Brotherhood for 3 of the 5 years. Strangely, they feel no pain. They feel only a state of calmness. It's actually amazing.

 

***

Arngeir woke me up in the small hours of the morning, telling me it was time. I followed him to the center of another room, where the Greybeards stood audience. "You are ready to learn the Voice. The dragon language is written all over High Hrothgar. Close your eyes, clear your mind...and find the word. Do it now." I exhaled deeply, tricking my mind into a meditative state.I began feeling a powerful vibration as I left my body, walking through the walls, searching for the words...I found none. I continued searching, trying to find an ancient word. Outside. I heard a voice in the back of my mind say. The voice was not my own, yet I did not question it. I walked through the ancient doors leading to the courtyard. A blizzard ripped through the air...but I did not feel it. I felt no cold, no warmth. I turned to see the doors...and then, I heard chanting. Chanting, in a tongue I did not understand. The more I listened to it, the louder it got. I peered at the archway, and then...I saw it. I saw symbols that I could not understand. And then, a single word in the back of my mind. Fus. Instantly, I warped back to my body against my will.

I fell to the ground, breathing heavily. My teeth felt locked together, my feet numb, and my arms and legs vibrating greatly. I slowly rose up, feeling my legs tingling. My throat began vibrating...the pit of my stomach feeling lighter...I felt the need to breathe...something. My ears rang, my breath held, and the room...closing inward. My fists vibrated and my throat burned...and then...

"Fus...Ro...DAAHHH!!!!!!!!!" The words burst from my mouth, sending most of the Greybeards staggering back, and the fort gave a mighty shake. My throat no longer burned, and my stomach felt...expanded somehow.

"Lilith, you have mastered the shout 'Unrelenting force'. When you shout, you speak in the language of dragons. Tell me Lilith, do you know the meaning of Dragonborn?"

"...um. He has the ability to speak the language of dragons like...you can?"

"Yes and no. The Dragonborn speaks the ancient tongue like us...but there is a greater difference. He can comprehend the meaning of the words when slaying a dragon. He does this by absorbing the soul, and learning the meaning of the shout. His comprehension and mastery of the shout is learnt within seconds, whereas we take years to learn a single word. A shout consists of three words. They are words of power. When you learn all three words, your thu'um becomes ever greater. You have learned Force, balance, and push. You learned all three of these shouts with only one of the puzzle pieces and without the soul of a dragon in a very short amount of time...you are the first, and most likely the last. You are, yet you are not your Father. You do not have the body of man and the soul of a dragon. You are something...something we have never come across."

"...Arngeir, I'm afraid I do not take your meaning." I said shakily.

"Lilith...your soul...its not...human...nor Dragon. It's something else entirely. What it is, we may never know. I strongly suggest that you stay here and master your training...something tells me that you are...no, nevermind. Rest, Lilith. You will need it."

***

 

 

I meditated deeply, trying to erase my thoughts of what had occurred a few nights ago. It was harder than I imagined. Anxiety washed over me, depriving me of balanced calmness. within a few hours, I had managed to calm myself enough to leave my body and venture outside. I left towards the courtyard, gazing at the mountains far away, listening to the whistling wind. It was a monstrous blizzard, but I could not feel it. The cold did not chill my ghostly form, and the snow fell through me. I then seen an odd creature gazing at me upon a wooden pillar. It was...an owl. A beautiful owl. It's face was heart-shaped and milky white, it's eyes...silver and human. It's wings were auburn and painted with stars and speckles. It was a very beautiful owl. I slowly approached it, noticing it could see me. It's gaze felt full of wisdom...and it didn't feel like an ordinary animal.

 _"Hello."_ it merely said, turning to smooth out its feathers.

I blinked twice. "Do...Do I know you?" I asked in a shaky breath. A strong sense of familiarity emanated from the barn owl before me. He gazed at me with a bored expression, ruffling his feathers. _"That's the question, isn't it? Well, you should. Did you get my letters?"_ He asked, tilting his head in a perfectly sideways. He seemed somewhat amused, as if he were teasing me. My mouth stood agape. "You...wrote those letters? But...how? You're an owl! And you claimed I'd know you...I...I never even met you! I...I..."

The owl gave me a strong look of annoyance. It's wings widened to a full span, and his feathers unruffled, making him look twice his size. " _For your information, I happen to be more than just a mere owl. I know you, but you do not remember me. Secondly, I never said we met face to face...in Nirn. Nirn, meaning the world of man. ...Don't give me that dumb-founded look! ...And don't glare either! I sent you over 20 books, did you even read one of them?"_ The owl huffed impatiently, his wings waving slightly in the wind. I was cut off before I could answer. _"Apparently not. Typical."_ He said, unsheathing his wingspan, and cooing softly. " _My name is Lore. I am more than just a friend. I am your Familiar."_

"...Familiar? What, you're a demon?" Lore gave me a annoyed expression, shivering slightly. " _Hilarious. I'm neither good, nor evil. I am a part of you, disconnected yet still living in the form of an animal. I am your alter ego, a source of your Daedric will and power. Without me, you would have been destroyed long ago."_

"Then...you must know everything about me."

_"Indeed."_

"Lore, tell me everything. Tell me who I was, what I was! Tell me-"

_"All in due time. However, not now. You are from ready. Understand that I withhold this information to protect you. You've already met Sheogorath, and he's no doubt watching you. The Daedra see you as a threat. In a way you are. You are shrouded with mystery to them and yourself. Unpredictable, even. You pose almost a greater threat than Sheogorath, madman with no motive...almost. Lilith, all I can do is watch over you. You must find yourself on your own. I cannot interfere with that. In time, the master of the Greybeards will speak to you. And he will tell you all that he knows. For now, farewell."_

 

With that, his wings opened, revealing a beautiful pattern etched in stars, spots, and auburn...and he flew, far above me, and downwards the cliff.

 

***

 

I've had strange dreams...dreams that feel like memories. I mostly see a silver knight, seeming most inhuman. In the dream, he lifts a giant greatsword, glistening in the sunlight. His face cannot be seen, but he seems menacing than ever.

_" **Ravenna Gold...you twisted witch...It is you of all who needs to be taught the lesson. You were never meant to stand with them...with any of them. You...are no god. No one will take my place! Least of all, you!"** He lifts his sword, striking it down behind me...and I scream as loud as possible. I feel some part of me...from behind...it falls with a loud thud, and my back burns...it burns! I still look up at him, as he looks at other people...they were dressed in golden armor, their faces unseen. I started to feel chains appear around my wrists in thin air._

_" **Listen, all of you! This..."** He pointed at me with his sword. **"This is an example. This woman...this Daedra...she is the result of those who defy me! If you wish to not suffer the same fate, join me! And we will destroy all Daedra within their Oblivion! We will cast aside those who refuse their morals and justice! Daedra are a threat to us all! They plague the mind of humanity, and they must be destroyed! I will be the God of man! I will lead them to truth, justice, and all that is right and just!"**_

_My lips opened, without thought I spoke. "What then? What then? What will you do when you conquer Nirn? You are no God! You disgrace the very name!" I look out to the crowd, slowly rising to my feet. "Is this," I gestured all around me, which consisted of broken rubble and fallen pillars of a castle. "...Justice? This is not even morally right! Who are you to decide who we are?!" I approached him, anger coursing through my veins. "Who are you to decide where we stand? Who we are, or who we become?! WE ARE DAEDRA! We are the embodiment of change! Change, and permanency! Change is what moves us forward! It's what makes us who we are! Change is a force that cannot be controlled! Not by you or anyone! Look around you!" I turn to the golden knights.I point to them. "You know this to be true! And yet you stand with him! He leads you to destruction! Destruction is neither morally right nor justified! It is wrong! This man misleads you!" I turn to the silver knight._

_"I...Ravenna Gold, am the one and only embodiment of change. Reincarnation, mischief, cunning, and birds. I embrace what I am...although my wings are gone, I am still change! CHANGE! CHANGE! CHANGE!"_

_I turn to the silver knight. "You can take my home, my power, and my wings...but you will never truly destroy me. I will live on! I WILL LIVE ON!"_

_With that, the silver knight plunged his sword into my chest. excruciating pain...and a warmth in my chest. He leans forward, plunging the sword deeper._

**_"Just You wait and see..._ **

**_Good Gods come and go, but_ **

**_All Lords eventually fall_ **

**_A God can wake up mortal..."_ **

_He tore the blade away from my chest, and I fell to my knees._

**_"You are nothing. You are the fallen Daedra...never to be remembered, always forgotten."_ **

***

"Lilith, what you ask is something I cannot answer. I am not the one who holds your secrets. If the owl is hiding this from you, then it must be for good reason. It'd be best if you did not question it."

"But Arngeir, I can't just let it go. That owl could be keeping something really important from me. Also...he told me that there is a master. One who is above you all. He told me that your master founded your ways."

All Greybeards stopped eating instantly. I was stared at in disbelief and fear. "Lilith...how much did he tell you about our master?" Arngeir inquired. I glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "So it's true? Why haven't any of you told me this? The owl told me that your leader would tell me what I needed to know. When can I speak to him?"

"You speak of Paarthurnax. He is our leader. To speak to him is an ultimate privilege, and we rarely seek audience with him. If you wish to speak with him, you must learn another shout."

***

"Speak it now, should you wish to see him now." I approached the archway inside the courtyard. The wind on the other side was the strongest blizzard I had ever seen. I inhaled deeply, trying to recall the words in mind. My stomach expanded and my throat widened as it always did when I began a shout. My fists vibrated and my body felt light.

 

"Lok...Vah...KOOR!" The wind halted instantly, and the fog disappeared. I began my long walk...to the peak of the mountain.

***

Upon my great trek, I had finally reached the top...my throat incredibly sore. It was night, and the moon was full and directly above me. I then heard a great roar, and I looked up. A great Dragon, horned, unblinking white eyes, and lime grayish scales...landed before me.

 

"Greetings, wunduniik. I am Paarthurnax." Said the dragon. My eyes widened in both fear and near disbelief. My throat dryer than usual, my mouth stood agape.

"Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah...my mountain?" He asked, his voice booming almost softly.

"You...You're the master of the Greybeards?" I asked softly, my voice shaking.

"They see me as master. Wuth. Oniik. Old and wise. It is true, I am old..." He shifts his movements slightly.

"Tell me, volaan...why do you intrude on my mediation?"

I gulped, trying to compose myself. I let out a shaky breath. "I was told that you would know...what I am. At the very least, shed some light on my origins. Can you do that? Can you tell me who I really am?"

"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed, at the first meeting of the two. By long tradition, the Elder speaks first. Hear my thu'um! Feel it in your bones! Match it if you are daughter of Dovakiin!" He turned to a small graystone arch near him...inhaled deeply, and exhaled a screeching roar, flames erupting at the wall.

"The word calls you. Go to it." He said, backing away. I followed the small path of singed flames and approached the wall, seeing burning symbols in its wake...and then...the word passed through me. The most common weapon of the dragon...Yol; fire.

"A gift, daughter of Dovakiin. Yol. Fire. Understand fire as the dov do. Now, show me what you can do. Greet me not as Nord, but as dovah!"

I inhaled deeply, feeling my stomach expand...and my throat widening. "...Yol!" I shouted at the dragon, seeing flames leave my mouth and hit him. Paarthurnax shook slightly, seeming a bit disoriented. He then gave a mighty laugh, seeming proud. "Ah! Yes! So you can speak as we do. Amazing...yet skildir digoliik. Much is mystery. Much is needed to be known. Krosis, I know very little. Not enough."

"Please...anything. There must be a reason. there has to be!" I begged.

"Mmm. Zu'u fen unt. I will try. Ruvaak Yuvon...Ravenna Gold...a mahlaan deyra. Fallen Daedra. It has been a very long time since I've heard that name. I know of her titles...and her fall. Jyggalag ended her. She was considered a lesser Deyra. Yet, she could travel to Nirn freely. She was filled with lakif...mischief. She played games with mortals...She had more value than the Silver Knight realized. She was the reason he was cursed...why he will forever be the way he is. Sadly, she was forgotten over time...All Deyra went against him. Ravenna held true to her promise...that is why she knows now. But much is unknown to her now. The owl knows more. You must speak to Lore. He is you, and he knows everything. But before you go, know this; many will die. The knight will rise once again...weilding the bane of Deyra...wielding what removed your wings. Although it is years away, you must prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

"Kein...war."

***2 years later.

 

 

My training is complete. It's time to go home...with Jono...with Cicero. I have to tell Jono everything...esspecially what Paarthuunax said.

***

I and my Father treaded down the 3,000 steps of the mountain.We said nothing as we walked downwards. But halfway there...I saw him. Cicero was dressed in a brand new shiny jester's motley, much like his own. I jumped into his arms, and he accepted the warm embrace with ease. "I missed you so much...I'm glad you woke up...I'm glad you lived...I.."

"Cicero missed you too. And now, Cicero is happy." He said, his voice shrill like always.

Jono nudged me, handing me a stack of letters. "Cicero and I sent you many...before knowing that we couldn't send them to you."

"Oh yes! Cicero sent many, many letters! A bigger stack than Jono's! Much bigger! And filled with so much love, so much joy...uh-oh...Jono doesn't look like he's happy."

I turned to Jono, noticing he was giving Cicero an annoyed glare. "Dad...you know he didn't mean it." I said, giving a small smile of my own. Jono merely rolled his eyes.

"Lilith, I don't even know how you deal with him. His voice gives me headaches...and everyone back at Jorvaskrr has nearly entertained the thought of sowing his mouth shut."

Cicero began glaring darkly at Jono. "Hey! He's only teasing you, man. Chill, Cicero."

"...I wish I was." Jono mumbled under his breath...loud enough for Cicero to hear.

"Both of you, knock it off. We got a long journey ahead of us. And I've got many interesting things to tell to everyone...esspecially you, Dad."

Before we even began walking, an arrow shot past my cheek...and another...and another...and another.

Before we knew it, I heard swords banging against each other. The men...lots of them...they were dressed in black and silver. Most Argonians, reptile-like humanoids.

My Father, turned to me, parrying his sword. "GO! UP THE MOUNTAIN! GO BACK! GO!"

I ran, pulling Cicero's arm and running up the mountain.

"FUS RA DAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

My Father's shout shook the very mountain, sending a small avalanche. Cicero and I dodged most of it...until Cicero got a shard of ice lodged into his shoulder. He tried to pull it out, but I yanked him. I pulled his arm over my shoulder, trying to support his weight whilst running up the mountain. I felt a few arrows being shot in my direction, and looked back...seeing what I feared most. 3 of the men were chasing us, bows in hand, one of them carrying a dagger. We were pushed towards a cliff, and I let my guard down, trying to see how far the jump would be...and then I heard Cicero give a shrill scream. I whipped my head, seeing a man...cloaked in a silvery black tunic, his face hidden by a mask...except his eyes...and a dagger, impaled within Cicero's gut. The man took one hand and removed his mask...and dropped Cicero. Cicero fell to the ground, limply whilst clutching his stomach as his eyes turned to glass and his mouth was agape. The man...was no man. He was someone far worse. He was Vasha.

His golden feline eyes narrowed, his pale furry gray face turned into a sadistic twisted smile. I lunged at him, pounding him in the chest, an energy and anger I have never felt before in my entire life...

My anger was strong...but not strong enough. Vasha merely laughed at my pathetic attempt. Suddenly...I felt a sharp pain in my stomach...and my movements halted almost instantly. My anger was numb...and my energy faded. My stomach hurt, but it also felt really warm...Dazed and confused, I glanced down at my stomach.

Blood...a river of it, still pouring down and the blade glistening with it. I felt really dizzy, and the pain faded...my legs felt no more...my vision blurred. Before I could fall, Vasha grabbed the collar of my shirt, and then simply...let go.

I felt a huge gust of wind hitting my back...snow, clouding my sight...and my body feeling light as a feather. I was falling. I could see the cliff above me...getting smaller and smaller. My vision blurred immensely. I had no thoughts...no words...nothing. I felt only calmness, and a fading pain.

 

 

Suddenly...a bird...a bird...an owl...coming closer and closer...Lore...he was in front of me, falling with me, his wings flapping like a magnificent eagle...Everything felt as if it were happening at slow motion...

 _"Ravenna...Mother of song, Master of Mischief, Bringer of Change...I bid you return. Leave your body behind, rise as you once were!"_ Lore shouted.

Suddenly...my back...something was growing out of my back. And then... thousands of black feathers spilled from beneath me and twirled around me like furious leaves in the wind.

Something big...something huge was growing out of my back. Wings...Wings were growing! I finally registered what was happening. My vision was blinded by a bright white light, and a vibrant humming echoed around me...like a heartbeat. I closed my eyes, shedding my mortal skin, and leaving my body in my spiritual form. I thrusted my wings upwards with great force, rising above the mountain little by little. I thrusted my wings with as much force as my body would allow. Freedom practically echoed through my veins.

Finally...I know who I am.

I am Mischief.

I am Song.

I am Change.

I am Reincarnation.

I...Am...The Raven.

 

I rose above the cliff I had fallen from, seeing Vasha fighting my Father. I dropped in between them, sending Vasha close to the edge of the cliff. He rose up slightly, before I slammed my foot on his throat. He looked at me, horrified.  
I merely stared down at him, reveling in his fear. He then mustered up enough courage to smirk. "You think killing me...will stop this? War is coming. It is inevitable. Killing me won't change anything."  
I cocked my head at him, removing him from beneath my foot. He stood wobbling on his legs, and I held my stance. 

"...Killing you will not prevent the end of days that is already upon us. But what you did will not go unpunished. You betrayed me, killed my family, and raped me. This ends today. Once and for all. This,"  I took my fighting stance. "...This is personal." I knocked him close to the edge, and he slid off effortlessly, his scratchy screams being drowned out by the howling wind.

  
I'm Finally, free. Free from the nightmare, free from fear, free from anything...

Until Cicero's voice brought me back to reality.

 

 

I ran to him, finding that he was bleeding out really bad. He was in tears, and I tried closing the wound. "You're going to be ok...I...I'll think of something...I..I...I..."

"Lilith...Cicero knows. He knows he has to die."

"Cicero...stop. T-that's not true. Y-you're going to be fine. I-I'll find something to stop the bleeding. A-and everything will be alright. Y-You'll see." I said, frantically searching around. Snow...that and bloodstains. I couldn't stop the tears from slipping.

Cicero grabbed both of my wrists. "Lilith...listen to me. Cicero will be fine. He will never forget."

"Cicero...you're going to be ok. I...Jono...he musn't be far behind. Stay here, I'll go get him. I-"

Just as I tried to get up, Cicero yanked me back. "No. Don't leave Cicero. Not now. Not now. Please. Listen to my words. Listen to poor Cicero...one last time."  
Jono was already treading the steps, but I paid him no mind.

"Cicero...always knew. Cicero just didn't want to believe it. Cicero knew Lilith did not want to be Listener. Cicero saw only madness...he still does..." He giggled softly, and then grunted in pain.  
"Cicero forgives Lilith...He...He promised to change. He wrote letters...saying he would. He...even..." He began coughing up blood.  
"He loves...Lilith...like...sister. Cicero always...has. Promise Cicero...you'll never forget...promise Cicero...you'll never forget." He said, clutching my shoulders desperately. Death was close.  
"I promise." I said, my tears falling and landing on his face.  
He hugged me in a loving embrace...and then his arms dropped.  
At that point, I screamed. I screamed in anguish, misery, sadness...  
I took his glove in hand, claiming only that part of him to keep as memory before we buried him.

 

 

***2 years later...

 

 

I've joined the Stormcloaks, rose to rank of General, own a few shops of apparel and general goods, and my identity has been changed. I am a Daedra. I'm able to shape shift into anything I please now.

It's the burning of King Olaf. I'm actually surprised that High King Ulfric Stormcloak has allowed this. I guess it just goes to show that the true Nord he is. It's a bright and sunny day here in Solitude and the festivities have just begun. Confetti falls from the sky like a colorful rain. People are cheering, drunkards are dancing, and even the homeless are having the time of their lives. My Father stands next to me, clapping with small enthusiesm, wearing his blue fine clothes and his necklace of Talos proudly. His once messy dark brown hair has been cleaned and tied back, and his fingers were covered in emerald-gold rings(no doubt enchanted). I'm only wearing a tight green dress and my black hair is tied back in a golden lace. My shoes are simple furr boots dyed brown, and an emerald necklace hangs around my neck. The festivities are around the Winking Skeever Tavern, where people are dancing and others are playing their own instruments.

 

The crowd cheered loudly as a single man entered the circle, and the previous dancers dispersed. I peered above the heads of those taller than I...and I saw him. Him. A jester, wearing a bright wine-red motley with a polished black trim, dancing in a swirl and a twirl of his own dance. His bellcap jingled merrily to the music, and the crowd clapped in rhythm.  
His face couldn't be seen or recognized, but I could tell his eyes were closed, his hair was a bright fiery red, and a wide open smile plastered across his face. His dance changed randomly to the point where he was doing cart-wheels, hopscotch, and even tap dancing. The Jester was doing it all on his own, his eyes closed, not even throwing himself off-balance.

The music abruptly stopped upon hearing the trumpets of High King Ulfric's arrival, and the Jester gave a quick and lavish bow, and then dashed towards the direction of the king. My heart pounding its way out of my chest, my mind hazy with confusion and dizziness, I chased after him. I could hear my Father yelling my name. Even without his thu'um, it echoed across the crowd, and I felt like I was leading a lone stampede. I was knocking people over, shoving everyone out of my way, seeing and hearing only a bright bellcap over the heads of others. In that small eternity, nothing mattered. No one mattered. No one but the Jester that I felt was my friend. My dead friend.

I even accidentally ran right into his majesty. The guards drew their weapons as Ulfric Stormcloak held me by the shoulders, and on impulse I kicked and screamed. He looked at me and then peered over his shoulder. I followed his gaze, seeing the Jester in the shadows of the arch, his eyes a glowing brown. The Jester's very gaze seemed expectant for me to follow...as if he were waiting for me. Ulfric looked at me one last time, his eyes vacant, and he abruptly let me go. Within that small second, I saw a spark of understanding in his eyes...and heard a small whisper, "Go." I ran without hesitation, dashing after the Jester. I could hear the guards yelling in protest. "Let her go!" yelled Ulfric, and I couldn't be more grateful.

The fool ran faster, flashing me one quick mischievous smile before turning the corner, and vanishing. I halted, breathing heavily, sweat beading on my forehead, and I desperately looked around. I was less than a block away from the festivities. I found that I was next to my Father's manor, connected to the Bard's college. The wind picked up as if it were winter, and over a thousand blue rose petals flown right past the road. It was a sign from something, somewhere, beckoning me to follow.

I ran, and found the Jester at the Bard's college, leaning against a lone pillar. His bellcap drooping and his face hidden. There was something different about him. He didn't really appear..human. He was hidden within the shade and couldn't be seen unless you were looking hard enough...yet his motley...it glowed as if it were enchanted. His motley was so bright in color that it glowed a vivid red. My heart racing a mile a minute, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through my veins...He slowly lifted his head.

His skin was pale like powder. His amber brown eyes sang with mischief, and his ebony dagger was sheathed at his side. He was the fool of hearts...riddles, rhyming jingled bellcap and all. He was my fool. He was my Cicero. A playful smirk traced his lips, and his eyes even smiled. Before I could rush into his arms in a tight warm embrace-before I could cry a river of joyful tears...

A faint tapping above...tapping of a cane. I looked up, and the sun shone brightly on a man...His suit was aristocratic with a mix of purple and red, frilly white cuffs, and a walking cane. His beard was white and his eyes a dark golden cat-like. A smile shone brightly on his lips. A smile of proudness, happiness, and shimmering madness. He peered down at me, and his smile turned into a smirk.

 **"A deal's a deal."** He said in a high accent. Almost instantly, Sheogorath vanished, and a faint swirl of sparkles lied in his wake.


	6. Author's note

Author's note:  
Before writing this story, I was near about to quit writing. My style of writing made me feel ashamed because I was too impatient for me to fully strengthen it. I always dreamed of having my work published and perhaps even made into movies...  
But I was always putting myself down. One day during class, I had decided to write in one of my journals. It started out as a poem...and then it grew. I began a story about an assassin, depressed with who she is and wanting an escape. And that's when I took it to the next level. I wrote in my journal everyday, even my grades went down because I spent so much effort and time into writing this story. It's the first story I've written with real style and confidence. 

On a dialy basis, I began having students and teachers critique my work. Sadly, I had to quit writing because of the situation with my grades. In the story, I left of writing about my character meeting Boethiah. Mind you, this was far before I had a real plot going on in the back of my mind. All I had was my character finding a Daedric sword and using it against them...almost like Blade, the Vampire hunter. But that's not what I wanted. So I gave up on it for a while, even when my grades were up.  
But in October, my Dad had managed to get a computer. And internet. Before I decided to write, I realized that there was so much more to Skyrim than I had ever known. I took most of my time watching documentries of Skyrim and bits of the game Oblivion. I felt so enlightened, esspecially when I came across some impressive information about the Daedra. I learned things about elves, Dragons, and even The Aedra without realizing beforehand that there was a connection with everything. 

 

And then...came the creation of Ravenna Gold. The name came to me in a given up story about a royal woman forced to change her name, and it was also inspired by the name Ravenna from Snow white and the Huntsman. I figured that was a start. It felt like a very unique name. I was going for clever, mysteroius, yet casual in some way. I hope I portrayed that somehow.

And then, I watched Maleficent. I was so impressed by the story that I took a liking to it so much. Even more so, I LOVED her wings. I thought they were absolutely amazing and I wanted to use them for my character. I had the toughest time trying to point out the differences though. I did not want to create a clone of Maleficent, and I found out that I was competing with the heroine Hawkgirl as well. It was really hard just to try to make her stand out more. So, I did not allow my character to wear horns or carry a staff of sorts. If you haven't noticed, although the first book is finished, my character's bio is still under development. 

Yes, another book is coming out. I am in the process of setting it up whilst looking up more information I have not found yet. This book took over half of my year in school and so much focus and research. I poured my heart into it, seeing the styles of writing shock me. I even went to the extent of trying to act out the scenes alone in my bedroom...just to try to get a feel for my character. I even managed to use my Father to help me out. He had a character of his own on the Skyrim game; Jono Stormcrow. That's when the light bulb burned its brightest.

Jono Stormcrow is literally a medieval version of my Father, Joseph Todd Halsey. A little off subject, my Father has written a book of his own and published it online. It is called Don't tell anybody. The cover features a teddybear with it's mouth partially sown with the thread of a needle, and 3 knifes stuck inside the door, and of course my Father's hands holding the thread. It is a very impressive book based on my Father's...traumatic childhood. You can find it at Amazon.com for more details. 

When I absorbed more knowledge and felt ready to re-write from my notebook, I chose to leave off where my character was at Boethiah's shrine. It was a bit unorthadox, even for me. Still, I went through with it, not wanting to re-write my prevoius story. Some of the readers know about it, others were being introduced to this for the first time. 

Even when I was writing this book, I managed to get my Dad to roleplay an acting session with him with some of my characters, trying to get a feel for Jono. Jono is my Dad in this story. He is literaly alive inside my writings, and I managed to impress myself. The acting sessions with my Dad were going very well, and he even gave me some awesome ideas to put in the story. Given the fact that my Dad is an experienced writer, I begged him to write this with me. I wanted this to be a Father/Daughter project based on our bond. Sadly, he declined. He didn't want to commit to it because he wanted the work to be originally my own. And I respect that. 

The story was going smoothly.  
Interesting fact; I had written the ending when I had only made about 3 chapters. I was so excited, and I realized that I would have to make some changes ahead of time to tie the story on that path. The more I wrote after that, the more I realized that my story was changing. My prevoius plans were taken out and replaced with brilliant plot twists and clues that made some of the readers breath be taken away. I was surprising myself by coming up with last minute twists and turns that left my readers on edge. I was being praised by my work and even told I was ready to write my own story. Still, I feel like I'm not quite ready yet. To write without copying someone else's work is really hard-especially if it's fiction. When I was writing Skyrim, I felt I was using tools to help me write an awesome story. I enjoy medieval and rennaisance, and esspecially magic. It's what defines my very creativity. Writing is like a language that has no shame...no shyness. It expresses feeling that can reach out to the reader and entertain them thoroughly. I always enjoyed the dazed feeling when I ended a few pages when read. And I hope you will to.

I poured my heart into this in so many ways. I tried to express real feelings, emotions, and physical reactions. I tried so hard to make it alive in a world of fiction. I wanted the readers to literally step in Lilith Ravenblade's shoes and feel everything she was going through. I did this story...and I still can't believe it. Although I wrote so many impressive things, I still believe I could've done better. I love writing scenes of dialouge and monologue and descibing emotion...whereas I lack in writing scenes of mobility. Scenes that describe fighting styles and simple movements. I can only imagine how hard it will be for me to write the battle in the next books...But I should stop there. I don't want to spoil the next books for you.

I thank those for taking time to read this and to encourage me to write this work. Although I do not own Skyrim, my ideas is what I WILL claim as my own. 

Before I end this, I just want to say one last thing. I mentioned that my Father was one of these characters. You probably wonder the same about Lilith. Lilith...is not me. She and I are two entirely different people. Yet...she is a part of me that I wish to become. She is far greater than I ever could be. She is a part of me that I wish I was.

In a way, my Father's character is as well. Jono is an honorable man, one who proudly stands by morals and has a greater wisdom than that of ordinary men. He is...dragonborn. His story has already been told. Lilith's story...has only just begun. 

Many thanks to:

Mr. Justin Reynolds, for being my awesome critique and encouraging me to do my best.

Malukah, for the beautiful music that helped me in the background when writing my chapters(You too, Karliene!) 

And to my other friends who wished to be anonymous! ty!


End file.
